Life Begins
by Miss Romance-Lover
Summary: Troyella one shot. From an idea loosely based on Taylor Swift's 'Begin Again'.


**Remember me? ;) I know it's been an absolute age, so I thought I'd post this short one shot while I get on with the next chapter of **Previously Unknown** (which I haven't updated since April!)**

**What spurred me on was reading the news last night that lovely Zac had successfully completed a stint in rehab five months ago! I was shocked to read it, but good for him for keeping it private while having the strength to check himself in.**

**Anyway, if you read this I hope you like it**

**Thank you**

**x**

Life Begins

You're starting to notice something about these Wednesday afternoons in the café down the road.

_He_ is always around.

Every week you turn up, sit in the same spot by the window and you write. The laptop comes out, your usual coffee is ordered on refill and after an hour of solid work on your 'hobby on the side', you order a bacon sandwich.

And it's always the same striking, blue-eyed man that serves you.

There's nothing _strange_ about it, really – the guy obviously works this shift every week. But for you, there's more to his presence than that. You just can't put your finger on what that is.

"The usual, is it?" he smiles as he approaches your table one day.

"Nope," you grin back. "I thought I'd go for a salad instead today."

Blue Eyes can't hide his surprise at your mention of the healthier option, but you're not offended. It just feels like he knows you, in a nice sort of way. "Oh. Really?"

You pause for a minute, then laugh childishly. "No, not _really_, what do you take me for!"

He shakes his head. It's as if he thinks he should have known better than to fall for that. Pointlessly, he writes down your real food order and it's as he's doing it that you notice his name badge. It says Troy.

As the weeks pass by, you begin to do less and less of the things you originally intended for these sessions. Instead you spend your time studying this man.

You're starting to wonder if these are stalking tendencies you're exhibiting.

"You should move in here," Troy greets you cheekily about a month after you discover his name.

"I only come in on Wednesdays, I'll have you know!"

"Careful there, you'll be giving _someone_ ideas that you come in just to see them," he replies, his bright eyes glinting as he continues the banter.

"Oh I do. I'm only here to see Linda over there," you smirk, gesturing to the older woman behind the counter. You're making it up as you go along because he seems to be flirting with you. You're not even sure that what you're saying counts as flirting back.

He chuckles at you. "I'll be sure to tell _Iris _you said that. So, will you be making something up if I ask you _your_ name?"

You pretend to think about it. "Well, thanks to your badge I already know yours so, go on then, you can have mine back. I'm Gabi."

"That totally ruined my next line," Troy jokes. "I'll get the coffee instead."

When he takes his break, you shut down your laptop and chat with him about trivial things. You long for him to ask you out as time goes by, but it never happens.

Then one Wednesday you arrive at the usual time to find he isn't there. Assuming that he's using up some annual holiday time you come back each week, waiting to see his beautiful blue eyes again.

Eventually you ask the older lady, Iris, about him and she tells you he moved away to start a masters degree. The casual flirtation and harmless chatter and the lack of anything more suddenly makes sense to you.

* * *

The years pass by and you live your life. You marry aged twenty-five, but it only takes a year for you to realise that you and Ollie have very little in common besides that appreciation for each other's looks in those first few months.

You've been divorced for about eighteen months when your friend Lucy insists on setting you up on a blind date. He's a lawyer, like her. You only go along with it because the thought of staying cooped up in your flat like a recluse for much longer is starting to wear thin. The only thing you've done lately is work, eat and sleep. You don't even bother with the writing anymore because there's no inspiration for it; hasn't been for a while.

Iris wishes you luck for your date as you finish your shift that evening. You'd got the job about six months after hearing of Troy's leaving, and the irony hadn't been lost on you; but you'd needed a job at the time and well, now here you are.

Lucy has told you that this man will be waiting for you at your local restaurant – a dating cliché if ever there was one – and when you park outside it you find the place packed.

Apparently you're to give your surname at the front desk so you are sent to the right table, which you go ahead and do. The young waitress leads you to a table right at the back, tucked away in a corner. When you spot him, you can't size the guy up just yet because he's too far away. All Lucy would tell you about him, other than his line of work, was that the table was booked under _his_ surname: Bolton.

Not very reassuring to put _this_ much mystery into it, in your opinion. But you suppose your friend was simply trying to put some kind of excitement back into your life, bless her.

When you come to a stop behind the waitress, she moves aside and you get the proper, close up view of this 'blind date'.

And you _know_ him. Those big blue eyes stare back at you, and his face crinkles into a smile that you can't help but match. Then he stands up and offers you his hand.

"Troy," he greets you, an amused grin on his face as he plays this moment out like a real first meeting.

"Linda," you reply with a straight face, recalling an old joke first uttered on a Wednesday, in a café.

He laughs along with you.

And so it begins...


End file.
